"Life is the dancer and you are the dance."
Eckhart Tolle

Friday, October 22, 2010

“An ode to Janie” big tent poetry #25 a scary poem

“For Janie stands behind me. She never leaves my sight.
Yet sometimes when the moon is full I imagine she leaves this room.
I wonder, does she have a place to go? Perhaps a tomb?
I still transcribe her poems every day and every night.
My own could never compare to those of Janie Alison White.

by Michael Barnett


While I sit beside your grave, on All Hallows’ Eve
I read the inscription, written so long ago

“Here lies my beloved bride
May she rest where the daisies rise”
I visualize what your body looks like now
Decayed and crumbling, your once golden hair
brittle … sparse …

No eyes to see with, no mouth to speak
Have worms entered, taking your spirit away?
Do you rest peacefully?
When they heaved the earth upon your casket
Could you feel the weight, pushing you toward eternal sleep?

Are the cold nights lonely for you, in your private bed?
As the rain pours over the ground, soaking through the earth
Does it reach your brittle bones, forming icicles, hanging and suspended?
Do you still listen to the waterfalls, so close outside your home?

When the veil is lifted between living and dead
With marigolds and incense to soothe you
Will we feel at peace?



Process notes: I borrowed the prelude to this poem from
a short story my husband wrote some years back. My husband
is a writer and editor.

18 comments:

  1. Oh, this is really chilling, Pamela!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. To me, it's more a poem of mourning. Not really creepy.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Morbid is the word that came to my mind, Pamela, but in a nice way! I like your husband's prelude.

    ReplyDelete
  4. It's both creepy and a poem of mourning.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Mary,
    If you read the short story by Michael, now that would really creep you out.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  6. Viv,
    It is about the mourning.
    Thanks.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  7. Derrick,
    Thanks and I will be sure to let him know.
    The short story is really creepy.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  8. Linda,
    It is that. And thanks.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  9. I love Halloween. Glad you borrowed from your husband!

    ReplyDelete
  10. and don't all minds wander the way of morbid at times in grief? it is nearly unthinkable how love of body can go to dust . . . and the wonder and desire for peace hover.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Pamela this is really thought provoking...and wonderfully written! :-)

    ReplyDelete
  12. Very chilling poem and lovely blog!

    ReplyDelete
  13. Deb, thanks and I enjoyed borrowing from him.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  14. Carrie,
    Thank you and it is all about the thoughts.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  15. Laurie,
    Thanks and thanks for visiting.
    Pamela

    ReplyDelete
  16. Amazingly creepy! That short story your husband wrote must be a great read indeed!

    ReplyDelete